The End of Angela
Characters: Major Bludd, Over Kill, Specialist Snapdragon, Tele-Viper 742 Location: Cobra's Colombia Base Date: 18 October 2008 TP: Non-TP Summary: Over Kill and Pennington decide to ensure Angela, the previous Over Kill version killed in a fight with Major Bludd, stays dead. Category:2008 Category:Logs Cobra Base - Medical Services :First and foremost, this large building serves as Cobra's infirmary. Many examination rooms line the hallways, while several other rooms have been devoted to surgery. Large open rooms with cots are set aside to treat large numbers of wounded if necessary. However, treating the troops is not the only purpose of this facility. The upper floors are dedicated to research laboratories, explaining the presence of a great many Techno-Vipers. Over Kill comes into the main medical area, carrying a smashed up BAT unit. It almost seems to be half sleepwalking, as if it's not all 'there'. Network connections stick out of it's fingers, as it forgot to retract them from the last time it was attached. It doesn't seem to recognise that anyone's there for the time being. Two BATs follow behind it, tilting their head at their central node as he loses himself more and more to the network recently. Snapdragon quirks an eyebrow. On the back dock of the medical center, Pennington finishes her smoke, then checks the sidearm she's borrowed from the Major. It's armed and ready to go. She holsters it, then takes a few deep breaths before slipping into the building through the back entrance. Snapdragon just keeps quiet. She realises that she isnt on the "friendly" list right now with some. She just sits back and watches the actions being made. Over Kill moves the BAT into technical. "Will rebuild you later. We're going to take care of the problem now.." He looks up, realizing he might not be alone. He notices Snapdragon, but not the sneaky Pennington. "Ah. Greetings, Snapdragon." He says distantly. "I'm going to visit the morgue. Theres a mess down there. I'm going to talk with it for a moment. It's been.. bothering me recently. I think it's time I cleaned it up...it might be loud for a moment. It should be over soon though." Snapdragon says, "ok..." Down Pennington goes, into the morgue. Once she's down there, she checks for surveillance cameras, disabling them with a hand-held remote device available to Tele-Vipers. Much less conspicuous than shooting them out. Besides, she's saving the bullets for a certain someone. Over Kill heads on down without another word. The android leaves his BATs topside, who stand guard outside the room. They do not stop anyone from following. They just let Over Kill know if anyone's going to be down there or not. As Pennington hears someone arrive in the morgue, she scoots behind a table, holding her gun ready as Over Kill descends the staircase. When she sees it's him, she sighs and stands up. "Glad it's you." The Morgue is a quiet place, as a body cooler should be. Row after row of drawers, standing in lone silence. There's a few individual rooms, and a back room leading down to cryostorage. A technican leaves cryo, finishiung up checking on a project in there. He pauses, when he sees other people down in the morgue, his eyes widening behind his green facemask "Hey. I wasn't expecting anyone down here." He looks to Over Kill. "You down here to yell at the synthoid again? Or to download information off the cyborg. Either way you know where to find it. She with you?" Over Kill grunts. "Heather. What you doin down here? We're not used to visitors down here." He says. Seems like he comes down to the morgue on a normal basis. Creepy. He nods to the technician. "Hello, Blackwell. This is Blackwell. He works on the Cryo-stuff down here and tags bodies. He don't care what we do, he's cool." The tall Medi-Viper shrugs. "They have me working morgue duty. I could care less what you do down here." Over Kill grunts. "Heather an' I need some.. Private time down here." he unhooks his right arm and readies a machete on his right arm. Blackwell notices Heather's gun and Over Kill's machete. "Private time with guns and machetes, eh? Kinky. I'll turn off the cameras. You aren't the first couple to come down here and..." Over Kill grunts and nods. Some conclusions are better then murder. Pennington's lip curls in distaste, and she fights back a sudden wave of nausea from both nerves and a mental image she'd just as soon put out of her mind. "Yeah, yeah, just get going, will ya? Or maybe we'll include you in the hott, hott target practice...betch," she smirks at Blackwell menacingly, waving the gun. Blackwell shivers a bit and heads up the stairs. He's not telling anyone about this one. Nope. The secret, as is. Is safe with him. Yep... Over Kill looks over at Heather. "Sorry about that. That was a little gross but um.. well um.. Hes not gonna think you're with the Major at least?" he shrugs a bit. "Um.. and they won't think anything about loud weird noises.. um.. yeah. So um.. you here to do some 'housecleaning' too?" "You got that right," Pennington murmurs. "Time to do this, it's our window of opportunity. We need to take advantage, *now*." Over Kill nods "It's the only way to keep her from haunting me. Its the only way to make it stop. Room 32. Cryo." he says approaching the door to the cryo room, marked 32. "I'll let you have first shot." Pennington nods, making a final check of the ammo clip within the gun's chamber, then moving toward Door 32 carefully, gun raised in preparation to fire. There's a body in the room, on a lone medical bed, which is oddly being kept restrained with heavy iron and leather restraints. Now that's odd to see in cryo. It looks like it's recently been thawed, to take skin and bone samples. An IV is hooked to one arm, and there is a set of chairs and a notepad by her bedside. Her head has been shaved and several nodes have been attached to her head keeping track of ..brainwaves? The creature somehow seems to be making signs of life. Medical is keeping it in one of those states between life and death where it's better off dead. It twitches slightly at the sound of footfalls, but doesn't open it's eyes. There's a long row of stitches across it's forehead, where a bullet was recently removed, but it's body isn't quite up to healing it fully. Upon seeing what's left of Angela, Pennington frowns grimly. She doesn't want to think much about this; she just wants to get it *done*, and leave the thinking for later. She edges closer to the bed, aiming the gun toward the center of Angela's chest. Over Kill enters a few seconds after Heather, looking over at the thing. It isn't surprised to note its already being thawed and the experiments are beginning anew. "Hello, Ms. Woods." Over Kill says softly. "It's Over Kill. And Heather. We're here to finish what was started months ago." he pauses. "Do it, Heather. They won't notice. One more gunshot. A machete wound. They'll just blame me." Pennington nods, her nose itching all of a sudden. It's the kind of itch she tries to ignore, but she just can't. She twitches her nose like a bunny rabbit, then pauses for a moment to rub it. "Fine time to get an itch," she complains quietly. Then, louder: "That's right, Angela. Your lying ways have come to an end. Consider it a favor, paid back in spades." Over Kill offers. "You want a blade?" He moves his hand to his left hip compartment. "She comes back from bullet wounds. Heart stabs. I wonder if she'd come back from a throat stab. Or salt in an IV or. Maybe aim at the temples.." He offers. "Someplace harder to recover from. Do you have hollow points?" "Umm..." Pennington checks. She was kind of in a hurry when she left Bludd's flat. "No. Regular rounds." She reholsters the gun. "Alright, what kind of blades you got? If we need to resort to making a mess, I suppose it will have to do." Over Kill pauses. "I got many blades. Many rounds. Sabot rounds, hollow points.." He drops his pack to the ground and opens it up, showing off his armament. Within, he has M9 rounds, Machine gun rounds, hollow points, sabot rounds, one giant missile just in case, two EMP grenades, a three inch blade, a six inch blade and a twelve inch serrated blade. "Take your pick. I came to hunt zombies." "Well if she comes back from bullet wounds and heart stabs, we may just need to take her head off," Pennington says helpfully. She chooses one of the grenades and the foot-long serrated blade. "Okay, much better." Over Kill grunts. "You ever handled a blade like that?" he offers. "It's gonna cause a lot of splat damage. You know how to slice with it?" "I'll learn," Pennington says. "...Let's just get on with it, we don't have time to go into lessons!" Over Kill blinks "She's not going to get up and stop us is she? We got time. How quick you think I am with the hanky panky." He snickers and ducks. "Sorry, kiddin!" He pauses. "Take both hands and cut where you think you should. Hold blade. I stand behind. I show how." he moves to stand behind her. "It's easy. Smooth." Major Bludd comes out of the administrative building and crosses to the medical building. He takes a last puff from his cigarette and tosses the butt away before pushing open the doors to the Medical Center. The two BATS in medical stand alone, watching the door. They seem to allow anyone entry or exit, shaking their heads back and forth at something. "Oh my god, this is going to be gross, isn't it. I think I'm going to puke." Pennington looks momentarily queasy, then shakes it off. "...OK, maybe not. Here we go." She leans over Angela with the blade, which glints in the room's light. Major Bludd knows Over Kill and Pennington had planned to do away with Angela, and since he hasn't seen or heard from either of them in some time, he suspects they're enacting their plan. He casually makes his way toward the stairs. At just the right inopportune time, blade over it's head the victim decides to shift. She moves her right hand over her chest. Her head moves to the right slightly. She lets out a cough and motions to the glass of water on the table nearby as if trying to communicate. Maybe she's trying to give pointers? Who knows. Over Kill narrows his eyes. "Oh now that's embarassing. I think the victim's trying to help you, Heather." Pennington's eyes widen. "...Are you...mocking me?? You're mocking me, aren't you...you can't even freaking TALK and you're mocking my efforts to kill you. You don't think I can do it...well...you're *wrong*." With that, Pennington suddenly lunges toward Angela, stabbing viciously. Major Bludd descends the stairs and walks down the hallway toward the morgue, the sound of his bootfalls echoing off the walls. He tilts his head to the side briefly, listening. The stab hits home, causing the body to splat blood up towards Heather and jerk violently. The body shivers once, coughing. "Stab it again! harder many times!" Over Kill shouts. The shouts can be heard down the hall, from cryo room 32. It's obvious what's going on. "If blood gets in your face wipe it off and go again!" Pennington clenches her teeth, putting aside her humanity in order to do the deed, and finds herself faltering. It's a disgusting business. Does she actually have it in herself to carry it out? (She hurt the man I love, without a second thought,) she thinks. Anger wells up inside of her, and she stabs harder, twisting the knife this time. Over Kill lowers itself to the ground, for a moment, watching Heather go about her deed. The android's face is impassive, as the second stab hits home. The synthoid body finally stops moving, laying still with the second stab. It's body limpens, the brain waves on the monitor flatlining. Over Kill doesn't say a word for a long time, just staring at the grisly scene. Major Bludd pushes open the door to Cryo Room 32. He's heard the raised voices and recognised them. As he enters, he takes in the scene: Over Kill cheering from one side of the cryo table where Angela lays, and Pennington, a long, serrated blade clenched in her hands, her features twisted in anger, sinking the knife into the synthoid's chest. It's certainly a side of her he's not seen before. He stands by the door and watches, a distant and unconcerned look on his face. Pennington stares quietly at the 'dead' looking synthoid. She doesn't seem to be entirely cognizant of what's going on in the room, including Bludd's recent quiet arrival. "Why isn't it gone yet," she whispers. "I don't believe it's dead yet, it would melt or something..." She grasps the blade once more, moving closer to Angela, her expression intense. The synthoid simply bleeds nad flatlines. Who knows why she hasn't disentegrated. Maybe that's one of the things they were taking skin and bone samples about. Over Kill doesn't look up for a while. He stares at the flatline. "Five minutes. Brain damage after five minutes. If we let her go for at least 10 , I think we wont have anything to worry about. Vegetables can't kill no one right?" "You need some help?" Bludd asks simply from the doorway, his voice completely lacking emotion. "...Hopefully not," Pennington murmurs, slowly turning to look toward Over Kill. As Bludd suddenly speaks, she looks over in his direction with some surprise. "When did you get here?" she blurts. "I think we've handled this...it's finished." She looks back down at Angela, and almost as an afterthought, presses down firmly on her windpipe to cut off any stolen breaths. Not that Angela's in much shape to make a comeback, but Pennington's taking no chances. Over Kill continues to stare, letting out a slight whimper. The synthoid's body starts to stiffen, her lips going blue as her windpipe is cut off. She isn't coming back anytime soon, if at all. The machine continues to flatline. Over Kill murmurs something under his breath, refusing to turn around and look at anything at all. Major Bludd folds his arms over his chest and says nothing, continuing to observe the scene impassively. Pennington continues to smother Angela -- it isn't really choking or strangulation, as there's nothing particularly violent about it. (My first kill,) she thinks to herself, goosepimples dotting her arms as she watches Angela's life ebb away. The moment is quiet, and very surreal to her. Over Kill watches the monitors for a while, before making his way over to Heather. He moves behind her, placing a cool, metal hand on her shoulde.r "Heather?" He says quietly. "It's done. You n eed to throw up?" he asks. Major Bludd watches Pennington carefully. He's fairly certain she's never taken a life before, and he's not sure what her reaction will be once she comes down from the act itself. Pennington actually seems a little calmer now than she was coming into this situation. "N...no, that's okay, I'm fine," she tells Over Kill, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thanks though." Once she's taken her other hand off Angela, she withdraws entirely, standing and looking somewhat dazed. Over Kill nods "I can get bucket. I clean up mess. Everything's bloody." He says softly. He shakes slightly, trying hard to hide it. He's a soldier. He shoudl be used to death. Major Bludd's not so sure the Angela business is completely at an end. The synthoid has an uncanny way of coming back to life against all odds. His right hand moves to rest unconsciously on his sidearm as he watches Over Kill and Pennington. "Isn't a synthoid supposed to dissolve when it dies?" he asks quietly. Over Kill pauses. "They says..Angela..." He starts, staring at the notebook. "They been doing 'speriments on her. Trying to solidify her. Make her more complete. Woods wanted her to be.." He starts. "He wishes he had raised her better, yes." He sounds very disturbed by something. "Think we should take it with us? Burn it?" Major Bludd jerks his head toward Pennington and Over Kill. "Move away," he instructs. "Cremating her would definitely stop her from returning in any way," Pennington murmurs. "Although I stabbed her in the heart several times...and she's been without air for a while." As the Major gets an idea, she dutifully backs off, gesturing toward Over Kill to join her. Over Kill moves over to Heather's side, and purposefully looks away. "I'm sorry." He says. Though why hes appologizing, its hard to say. "I should have saved you guys from having to do this. Was a BAT problem. I let it get out of hand.." Major Bludd draws the automatic pistol on his right hip, pulls the slide back, and releases it. After verifying that the other two have followed his direction, he points the weapon at the synthoid and holds down the trigger, emptying a full magazine into the accursed creature, his face expressionless. As he fires, he adjusts his aim to ensure as many of the synthoid's major organs are perforated. The last half dozen shots go directly into Angela's skull. Over Kill watches the shot fill the area. "Everyone, clear out." ok. the BAT has seen enough violence. It decides it wants in on it too. Angela's body is pretty well exploded. "I know what else needs to be done. I know where they keep the old cyborg body. In case they decide to download from her core. Hold on." He walks out of cryo and over to a shelf, where they've been keeping the cyborg body. "Um. Everyone clear out of the Morgue." Pennington bites her lip. Had she done enough? Had she really killed Angela? REALLY killed her? She didn't know what to think. Or how to feel. She just didn't *know*. Over Kill grabs one of those EMP grenades and sets a timer. "We've got 45 seconds." he sets it on the body. "That should take care of backups." he starts to head upstairs. "I think most mechanical things and anything electronic you want to save should clear a radius." Major Bludd takes a deep breath, staring at the body for a moment before holstering his sidearm. He peripherally notices Over Kill's movements and frowns when he sees the android set up a grenade on the remains of Angela's body. (Lovely,) he thinks with annoyance, (another episode of 'Set The Grenade Without Warning Anybody So They Can Get Blown Up'. My favourite show.) He grabs Pennington by the arm and pushes her out of the cryo room and follows her at a run. "If I end up in the infirmary again, Over Kill," he murmurs, "you're in a lot of trouble." Over Kill pauses. "Its an EMP grenade." he explains. "I don't think you're in any danger." He says, heading upstairs as quickly as he can. "Just making sure things dont come back yanno?" He moves on all fours, heading upstairs as quickly as possible. "Fire in da' hole!" he shouts "Back from the morgue door!" Major Bludd and Pennington emerge at the top of the stairs and quickly move to one side to avoid the blast of the grenade. It's instinct for Bludd, and he's pleased to see she has the sense to make the same maneuver. Over Kill moves under the first grounded source he can find, counting down the seconds. "Fifteen..fourteen twelve.." He counts down, watching silently. His BATs also move next to a table, grounding themselves. A nice, pretty blue glow comes from the floor, and then..nothing. Silence. Major Bludd blinks. "Is that it?" he asks aloud, peering at the stairway door. Over Kill moves from the table, shaking his head to clear some residing static. The lights flicker, but otherwise, upstairs, it seems like nothing happened. "Yes. Should be clear now." His voice is emotionless, and distant. He stares at the ground, digging his hands and feet into it. "Well that," Bludd says quietly, "would appear to be the end of that." He glances to Over Kill. "Wouldn't it?" Over Kill nods "Yes. Is over. She will not be. Disobeying. Anymore." He says quietly. Major Bludd walks over and lays a hand on Over Kill's metal shoulder. "You did good work, lad," he murmurs. "Can't've been easy for you, I know." He looks the android over carefully. "You okay?" Over Kill murmurs "As ok.. as I have been recently. Maybe now things will get better." he says. He shakes again when he's touched. "Had to do it. She was haunting me. When I dream. Last night I found myself. Becoming her. I couldnt let myself. I had to make sure...." "And you did," Bludd assures him. "It was necessary for the safety of this base. You've helped secure Cobra's forces. You know Angela was planning to take the BATs and secede from Cobra ... now she can't." Over Kill nods "Yes. Protected base personnel. Took responsibility. Did was was necessary." He says softly. "Protected friends and allies. Protected BATS and network." he pauses. "It is what is important in the end." He finally retracts his network cabling. "Yes. It is done." He shakes a bit. "And now it's official, yes? Now network is officially..mine. And the humans who control the networks, yes." Major Bludd smiles slightly. "You are, as you have been since your activation as Over Kill, the BATs' Central Node. You've just eliminated competition which should not have been around to foil you in the first place." Over Kill nods "Yes." He says softly. "Competition. I went home, Major. I went to Brazil. To the place of my birth. To see if there was anything to learn." He pauses. "There isn't. I have learned what I can from the BRA. The BATs cannot exist outside of Cobra. You do not need to feel. That you will have to repeat this in four years." Major Bludd's smile broadens. "I'm glad to hear it, my boy. You look like you could use a drink," he grins. "You've been through hell." Over Kill nods "Yes. Brainstorm was saying. I'm becoming paranoid. I'm starting to walk..her path. I hope hes wrong." he shivers. "I hope hes wrong." He seems terrified. "Thats when I came down to do this. Drink sounds good. Haven't snuck Avgas in a while." Major Bludd puts an arm around the android's shoulder in a rare gesture of open camraderie. "I think Brainstorm's full of hot air sometimes," he opines, "that's what *I* think. Let's go get you some of that Avgas and me something suitable and celebrate your freedom. What d'ya say?" Over Kill smiles. "Yes. Yes. I think. I think that.. get us some drink yes." He leans in close to Major Bludd, giving him a slight nuzzle. Maybe that's how vectors show affection, who knows? He grunts. "Meet you down at the rec hall then? We have. Wake." (Okay, that's weird,) Bludd thinks as the android rubs his face against his jaw, trying not to pull away in too obvious a fashion. He releases Over Kill's shoulders. "I'll meet you there," he agrees. Over Kill grunts. "Sees you there soon." He says, pulling away softly and scurrying off. He doesn't notice the discomfort. He thinks its prefectly normal.